[Intro: upright bass, brushed snare, spoken] Top bunk was his. Bottom was mine. Ladder stayed. [Verse 1] I was nine when he claimed the top like a king with a crown I got the mattress that sagged and the view of the ground He said, little man, you climb when you need to talk at night So I learned every rung by the feel of the wood in the light He taught me how to tie a tie the morning of a dance Stood on the bottom bunk so I could see myself by chance Said, you look like somebody, which is all he had to say When pride will not come out of a brother any other way [Hook: sung baritone, low] Bunk ladder leaning on the wall Rungs worn smooth by a smaller hand He said climb up if you need to talk I still understand [Verse 2] Sixteen, he packed a duffel with the corner taped tight Ship date in September and a haircut overnight Left his comics in the drawer and the flashlight on the shelf Said, do not climb up there crying, keep it to yourself I sat on the bottom bunk and I stared at the wood Counted every pencil mark where our heights once stood First night he was gone I climbed it in the dark Sat on his mattress with my knees drawn up sharp Talked to the ceiling like the ceiling had a name Came down before morning, put the ladder back the same [Double-Time: drawer inventory, flat and fast] Comics flashlight batteries rubber bands a broken watch a pack of cards with a jack missing a ticket from a fair we never made it to that year at all Half a pack of gum gone hard as a rock and a note from a girl he liked and a photograph of both of us with grass stains on our jeans after the fall I put it all back neat the way he left it and I shut the drawer soft and I did not take a single thing that was not clearly mine to keep or to call Climbing up to talk to nobody on a Tuesday is a habit that will make you feel older than the wood and younger than the fear in the hall [Hook: sung baritone] Bunk ladder leaning on the wall Rungs worn smooth by a smaller hand He said climb up if you need to talk I still understand [Verse 3] Twenty-four, I moved out and I left the room alone Told Mama she could paint it, turn it into something grown She said, I will leave the ladder till you tell me otherwise I said, leave it, and I meant it more than any other prize He came home last Christmas with a limp and a soft laugh Stood in the doorway looking at the bunk like a photograph Asked me if I ever climbed it after he had gone away I said, once or twice, which was a kinder lie that day He put one hand on the rail and he shook it like a friend Said, still holds, and I said, yeah, it did not have to end [Chopper Burst: stacked, no internal commas] Rung one for the comics rung two for the fights rung three for the flashlight gone dim rung four for the nights that we talked through the cracks in the dark till dawn Rung five for the duffel taped shut rung six for the ship date in September rung seven for the silence that would not evaporate off of the lawn I can still climb quiet in the dark I can still sit up on top I can still come back down soft without making Mama stop or even yawn Ladder is a sentence that we never had to speak out loud every scuff on the wood is a word that would otherwise fall flat and be gone [Final Hook: baritone, bass holds] Bunk ladder leaning on the wall Rungs worn smooth by a smaller hand He said climb up if you need to talk Brother, I still understand [Outro: bass alone, spoken] Top bunk was his. Bottom was mine. Ladder stayed.
0/500